


Permission to Love

by nemenana



Category: LOONA (Korea Band)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Romance, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Unrequited Love, You Have Been Warned, again sorry for the ominous tags, and yearny, but we do have cute minor hyewon appearance if that sweetens the pot for anyone, i'm so sorry yall, read at your own peril, sad lesbians, they r so gay, well not heavy per se
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:59:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28730832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nemenana/pseuds/nemenana
Summary: Sooyoung comes home to give Jiwoo her long-awaited permission to love.(Oh, but did we mention that Sooyoung has ghosted her for over a year?)
Relationships: Ha Sooyoung | Yves/Kim Jiwoo | Chuu, Kim Jiwoo | Chuu/Kim Jungeun | Kim Lip, Park Chaewon | Go Won/Son Hyejoo | Olivia Hye
Comments: 10
Kudos: 72





	Permission to Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [salmosalar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/salmosalar/gifts), [xxchenqing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxchenqing/gifts).



> [a conversation that happened at the end of the semester]  
> xxchenqing: i want to write a fic  
> salmosalar: hell yeah me too  
> me, a water sign: :D !!
> 
> shoutout to salmosalar for editing this fic! ur the best

It's cold when Sooyoung finally steps out of the airport. She has slept like a corpse during her flight, and the airport’s temperature was warm enough to keep her half-asleep. Now, underdressed in February night air, she gradually regains her consciousness and groggily paces around the corridor like a zombie. She buries her freezing hands in the pockets of her jacket and wonders if she should've called someone to pick her up. Her luggage is heavy and her feet are tired from all the prancing around she did yesterday. 

Some years ago, she wouldn’t even need to lift a finger—there was a certain girl who would gladly wait for hours to pick her up and bring her back to her apartment. A brown-haired, lovesick girl at her beck and call.

-

_“You didn’t bring a scarf?” the girl asked twice as if it was something unbelievable. “Really? Don’t you remember that it snows at this time of the year?”_

_“Well,” Sooyoung nodded half-heartedly. It’s not like she doesn’t remember—most of the time she just did not care. “Try touching my hands. They feel like ice,” Sooyoung teased, waving her hands midair as if threatening the other girl with her ice-cold touch. The girl jerked away from Sooyoung with an_ ‘eugh' _—she deeply hates the cold—only for Sooyoung to mischievously cup the girl’s cheeks with her chilly fingers. The other girl immediately froze._

 _Sooyoung counted_ one, two, three.

_The other girl blushed._

There it is. _Sooyoung is all but unfamiliar with the shade that creeped the girl's cheeks. The girl gasped, as if what Sooyoung did was scandalous. ‘Sooyoung!”_

_Sooyoung was amused. She knew that this girl would never get mad at her, ever, and that all of her actions are basically excusable. Sooyoung knew—more than anyone else—about the power she had over her. The girl, visibly trying to keep her composure, cleared her throat. “You’re right,” the girl said as she detached her own red, ribbed scarf and brought it around Sooyoung’s neck, “And I think you should be the one to wear this. My coat is thicker after all.”_

_Sooyoung stared at the dainty little hands that wrapped the scarf snugly along her collarbones. The tip of the girl’s fingers looked reddish. “But your neck will be cold.”_

_“I have long hair. I can manage. Yours is short,” the girl says as she curled her fingers around her own hair. “As for your hands …”_

_With a surge of bravery that came out of nowhere, the girl grabbed Sooyoung’s left palm and shoved it to the inside of her pocket. It was Sooyoung’s turn to stall. All Sooyoung can remember was the sweltering warmth that enveloped her hand. Was it Jiwoo’s own body heat or was it the heat pack she keeps inside her pocket?_ Heat packs are a very Jiwoo thing to do, _Sooyoung thought._ She should stop doing this.

 _Jiwoo paced along the parking lot and Sooyoung stared at the blinking lights in the distance._ _It’s warm and stifling and Sooyoung didn’t know what to feel about it._

Jiwoo should stop doing this. For her own good.

-

It’s far colder than she remembers. She really should’ve called someone. 

She tapped the soles of her boots. 

Sooyoung opened her phone and reactivated the messenger app she's never used for the past few months. Messages keep flooding in as she scrolls, unimpressed—she saw several recent, threatening messages; _blocked, thank_ _you—_ until she spots a meme that Son Hyejoo sent her approximately a week ago. _Really, Hyejoo? You know that I don’t use the app anymore._ She rolls her eyes and ignores it, then opens Jiwoo’s messages.

[January 16, 2020]

[A missed call at 0:43 am]

**Kim Jiwoo**

> i’m very sorry, sooyoung

[January 18, 2020]

**Kim Jiwoo**

> i’m sorry

> please call me back

> sooyoung.

[February 10, 2021]

**Ha Sooyoung**

(typing…)

Nevermind that, she shakes off the thought and erases the half-written sentence, partly because she feels bad and partly because she would like this to be a surprise. A present for the girl who would wrap a scarf around Sooyoung’s neck and put Sooyoung’s hand inside her warm jacket pocket in the dead of winter. _Jiwoo._

Her heart grows warmer. She has a purpose now.

_I’m coming home, Jiwoo._

-

**2019**

_Jiwoo wasn't even a fling—she was a long-time friend, and it hurts Sooyoung's head to remember the drunken one-night stand that had started this whole crush-dumbfuckery. Sure, it was a ridiculous decision on Sooyoung’s part to screw her close friend, but on Jiwoo's part … Sooyoung recently started to think that Jiwoo had tried to get her drunk on purpose on a few occasions. Sooyoung couldn't help but be wary of Jiwoo’s presence; and she hated the fact that the obnoxiously joyful Jiwoo—a trait of hers that Sooyoung actually found refreshing—was gradually reduced into a hot mess in front of her. She didn't ask for this. The slightest compliment turns Jiwoo's cheeks red and Jiwoo couldn’t even look at Sooyoung in the eyes anymore. Seeing her friend on a downward spiral was pathetic._

_She remembers Son Hyejoo asking:_ don’t you find that cute? 

It’s foolish, _Sooyoung answered,_ she’s foolish. _And Hyejoo, who understands her better than any of their friends, nodded._ She kinda is, _Hyejoo said,_ but she’s honest and she’s willing to do anything for you.

_Sooyoung sighed in defeat._

_Just a smile. That was enough to bring Jiwoo to her knees._

-

Sooyoung ends up boarding a taxi and she groans as she slumps against her seat. 

_My life is just seats after seats. And I'm never home. I’m a weary traveller and I can’t wait to go home._

She’s very tired. And also very hopeful.

As the taxi enters the area of the city Sooyoung is familiar with, she passes the cinema building that she often frequented back then—in Jiwoo’s company, of course. Sooyoung has always preferred to watch movies in the comfort of her own home, but then Jiwoo came along with her sheepish grin and movie tickets. Jiwoo would periodically drag Sooyoung along to “unofficial dates” that Sooyoung couldn’t possibly refuse. Jiwoo would never mention the word “date” when asking Sooyoung out, of course, but Sooyoung obviously knew better from the tell-tale signs. And despite that, she indulged Jiwoo and let herself be dragged around anyways. _That was the least that I could do,_ Sooyoung thought, _to appreciate Jiwoo’s courage. As for the rest of it—_

-

**2019**

_“I got the snacks! Have you got the tickets?” Jiwoo approached Sooyoung as a bead of sweat lurched down the side of her forehead. In her hands were a big bucket of sweet-smelling popcorn and two sweating cups of soda. “I hope you don’t mind that I keep getting us caramel popcorns. They’re my favorite.”_

_Sooyoung grabbed one soda cup from Jiwoo's hands and waved their tickets around proudly. They were going to watch_ In the Tall Grass _, a Stephen King movie Sooyoung had kept an eye on for quite some time. “I like the butter ones too. A change of flavor is nice sometimes. Or maybe we should get separate buckets,” Sooyoung suggested. Jiwoo reluctantly nodded. “Okay—”_

_“Jiwoo! Sooyoung!”_

_Sooyoung heard the familiar voices calling out to them. She turned around in her chair and saw Hyejoo and Chaewon, their friends from high school, linking hands and wearing matching hoodies. The couple waved. “What a coincidence! I didn’t think I would see Ha Sooyoung in a cinema, though,” Hyejoo said as she casually sat beside Sooyoung._

_Jiwoo blinked. “Why?”_

_Hyejoo shrugged. “She always refused whenever I asked her to hang out around here. She says it's too crowded.”_

_Jiwoo looked at Sooyoung, questioning. “Sooyoung, you don’t like cinemas? You’ve never told me.”_

_“It’s not like that. I’m ... neutral about it, I guess, ” Sooyoung lied. She still hasn’t learned to love cinema through the tens of times she accompanied Jiwoo. Sooyoung turned to Hyejoo, “The three of us hanging out is just your excuse to flirt with Chaewon after all. I’ve learned not to take up on your offer.”_

_“Hey! All’s well that ends well,” Hyejoo snarked, as if showing off that she and Chaewon are practically married for 60 years. Chaewon giggled._

_“Sooyoung may hate cinemas but it's different when her girlfriend asks her out on a date, huh?” Chaewon nudged at Jiwoo, who immediately blushed and was at a loss for words. Sooyoung groaned—knowing Jiwoo, she may pick up funny ideas after this. “Again, it’s not like that. We’re not dating. Tell them, Jiwoo.”_

_“Yeah! We’re just … friends. Friends go to the movies together,” said Jiwoo, tightening her grip on her soda cup. Sooyoung pretended not to notice the apparent disappointment in Jiwoo’s eyes—instead, she threw a look at Hyejoo. “See?”_

_“Boo. Sure, whatever.”_

_“Are you guys here to watch_ Perfect Love _too?” Chaewon asked._ Perfect Love _sounds like one of those mushy movies that couples watch on dates, Sooyoung thought, and she never would’ve thought that Son Hyejoo is the type to sit through them._ Oh, the things one would do for love _. Sooyoung smirked at Hyejoo, who in turn rolled her eyes. “What's your seat number? We could be neighbors!”_

 _“Nope—we’re going to watch_ In the Tall Grass. _I’ve been waiting for it for ages.” Sooyoung sighed dreamily while showing off their tickets to Chaewon. Sooyoung loves horror movies to death and she’s not going to miss out on this one. Hyejoo raises her eyebrows._

_“Are you sure? Don’t Jiwoo get noisy in there?”_

_“What?”_

_“Jiwoo, she … explain, Chaewon,” Hyejoo sighed. Chaewon smiled playfully. “Well, Sooyoung, there’s one time I was watching_ Insidious _with Jiwoo and she flipped out. She screamed at this one jumpscare and spilled all the soda to the bedsheet! It was a pain to clean, plus with all the—”_

_“Oh, it’s about to start! We better get in soon!” Jiwoo pulled at Sooyoung’s wrist as she paced into the theatre, leaving the snickering lovebirds behind them._

_“Jiwoo, wait—our snacks!”_

_Maybe it was because of what Hyejoo and Chaewon said, but Sooyoung found herself observing Jiwoo afterwards—something that she didn’t do quite often. Sooyoung learned that Jiwoo’s face did grow paler at each gory scene and that she even spilled a little of their shared popcorn during jumpscares. She was holding it in. Perhaps the dim light of the theatre has made her oblivious to this, but Sooyoung just realized that Jiwoo—the Jiwoo that only invites her out to watch horror movies—absolutely loathed what they’re watching._

She's really trying too hard.

_Sooyoung cursed Son Hyejoo under her breath because she couldn’t help but notice other things about Jiwoo she would’ve preferred not to know—or perhaps had already known, but chooses to ignore anyways. For example, the occasional blush that creeped into Jiwoo’s cheeks whenever their hands brushed over the popcorn (so that’s why she always gets this stupidly big popcorn?) and all the very not-subtle glances Jiwoo shot her from the sides of those big, glistening eyes. Sooyoung knew that all Jiwoo wanted was for Sooyoung to take the initiative to hold her hand, but Sooyoung—Ha Sooyoung would not._

_Sooyoung would not hold Jiwoo’s hand._

_-_

Sooyoung had guessed that Jiwoo probably wondered why, countless times. Perhaps there was a part of Sooyoung that wanted Jiwoo to take the initiative—and lately, she wonders that maybe things would’ve turned out differently if Jiwoo had more guts. But for all Jiwoo was, she was a coward. Jiwoo would not suddenly cross a line because of a momentary error. Jiwoo would never cross a line and that was partly the reason why Sooyoung kept her around. Jiwoo may have the stupidest, fattest crush on Sooyoung, but she's harmless. And kind of cute, on top of that. 

The only time Jiwoo crossed a line, Sooyoung left. But Sooyoung won’t be doing that anymore.

She will brush Jiwoo’s hair and kiss her goodnight and they will have a fairy tale ending this time around.

-

**2019**

_Sooyoung slowly opened her eyes and gasped as her hangover registered itself. She wanted to puke her guts out and her head pounded. Hard. As her vision finally adapted to the darkness around her, she began to assess herself. Oh. A familiar ceiling and a familiar bed. How could she not know where this is? It’s Jiwoo’s place._

_And she’s lying on Jiwoo’s bed._

_And next to her—_

Crap, _she thinks as she spotted brown hair in the corners of her blurry vision._ This could not be happening again. Stupid, stupid Sooyoung. 

Stupid alcohol. 

Stupid Jiwoo.

_Her head pounded harder. She was supposed to be leaving tomorrow and she didn’t need this._

_Her sense of balance still refused to return to her body as she stumbled around Jiwoo’s room, picking up pieces of her clothing that had been mixed up with Jiwoo’s on the floor._ Why did I leave them like this? Jesus. _She sure hoped that she didn’t wake Jiwoo. Sooyoung dressed herself—not even bothering to make herself look presentable—and tried to leave the room as quietly as possible. She squinted as her eyes were stung with the blinding lights outside on Jiwoo’s hallway. She tried to make her way around the hallways, searching for the stairs that leads into the entryway._

God, this house is like a maze. I wish I was sober.

 _Sooyoung sneaked down the dark stairs and had just finished strapping her boots when she heard footsteps from afar. Rapid, very loud footsteps of someone descending down the stairs._ Please. _Sooyoung wanted to escape. She grabbed the doorknob. And then—_

_“Ha Sooyoung!”_

_It was Jiwoo’s voice._

_Sooyoung exhaled. She really didn’t want to deal with Jiwoo right now. She turned around and there Jiwoo was, at the bottom of the stairs; all gasping and out of breath. Jiwoo’s hair was messy and it’s apparent that a single tear was streaming down her cheek. She didn’t even bother to cover herself up properly and Sooyoung flinched as she saw the marks left on Jiwoo’s body._ Unbelievable, Ha Sooyoung.

_"Is it true?" Jiwoo asked breathlessly. "Are you going to leave?"_

_"Yes. It’s not something I can control."_

_A pause. A very long pause—in which Jiwoo fills the room with a melancholy too heavy to ignore. Then Jiwoo looked up at her, with those glassy, lovesick eyes, and whispered in a strained voice, "But I love you, Sooyoung."_

_Sooyoung stalled. Under the dim light of the house’s entryway, Jiwoo grabbed Sooyoung’s disheveled collar and inched closer to kiss her. Sooyoung stayed still during the kiss._ Perhaps she was hoping to change something with this, _Sooyoung thought. Sooyoung wiped the traces of Jiwoo’s tears on her own cheeks and twisted the doorknob._

_"It’s late. Try and get some rest."_

-

She clicks her tongue. Maybe that was it. The thrill of being desired. Perhaps love was terrifying for her but it wasn’t half-bad to feel desired. Back then, Sooyoung wasn’t ready yet—but she hoped that Jiwoo would wait for the two of them. God knows when Jiwoo’s annoying little face and annoying high pitched voice have crawled into a corner of Sooyoung’s mind—interestingly when they are thousands of kilometers apart. _Maybe absence does make the heart fonder?_ She sneered at the thought. But for all its worth, she’s now the idiot who has fallen in love with an idiot.

Sooyoung can’t deny that she is hungry for the warmth that only Jiwoo can offer. Oh, Sooyoung thinks, how nice would it be if she could take a long, hot soak in Jiwoo’s tub and have Jiwoo dry her hair afterwards. How nice would it be if Jiwoo would stay up with her all night and listen to all the stories and secrets Sooyoung hadn’t ever told anyone before _—_ even to Son Hyejoo. And to run her fingers through Jiwoo’s hair as she falls asleep—to have Jiwoo sleep beside her and wake up next to her—everyday. To be drowned in Jiwoo's affection until she is drunk and she can't think straight. To celebrate birthdays and anniversaries and even the silliest little things. Only the two of them, for the rest of their lives.

_I want to tell you that things will be different this time. I was—and still am—fake at the seams; but I want you to tear that up and sew me again. I want you to know that yes, Jiwoo, I left my job and yelled at my parents so that I could knock on your door in the middle of the night, unannounced. I'm coming home and I want to let you know that I will never let you go again. That you've changed me. That you were right. I’m here to claim the fairy tale ending that you promised me through all your glances and faint touches._

_And I will give you the permission to love me._

Sooyoung climbs out of the taxi and drags her trunk to Jiwoo’s familiar lawn. She grins. Now, more than ever, she wants to hear Jiwoo’s _I love you._ Excitement rushes through her veins as she climbs the steps to the familiar porch. Everything feels too familiar; as if she was destined to be here all along, a missing puzzle piece returning to its owner. She presses her forefinger against the doorbell, all giddy and grinning stupidly like a high school student in love. (Wait, is she changing into Jiwoo? Is this what love does to a person?)

_Ding-dong!_

No answer. She pressed the bell again. _Please answer, Jiwoo._

_Ding-dong!_

"Coming!"

Oh. It's her voice. Thank god she hasn't moved out yet. Sooyoung lets out a relieved sigh; she just realized how much she misses the pleasant ring of Jiwoo’s voice. It was as high-pitched as she remembers, but not in an annoying way. She really does miss it.

The door opens. Sooyoung holds her breath.

It’s Jiwoo. She’s even more beautiful than Sooyoung remembers—the tips of her hair are dyed lighter and she’s all dressed up. _She looks breathtaking in that dress,_ Sooyoung thinks, _and I want to kiss her hair._

_No. Focus, Ha Sooyoung!_

“Hi! I’m back,” Sooyoung greets her breathily. “Where’s my welcome kiss?”

Jiwoo’s hand is still glued to the doorknob. Sooyoung could hear her whisper a _‘no way’_ and Soonyoung chuckled—only for the door to get slammed right at her face. _Ouch_ . That hurts a little. Sooyoung could faintly hear an echo of _“Jiwoo? Who’s that?”_ from inside of the house. _A visitor,_ Sooyoung hisses. 

“Nobody! I’ll be right back!”, she heard Jiwoo answer. Well, Sooyoung thinks, we can change that. She’ll go from a _nobody_ to a _somebody_ soon.

The door creaks open again.

"Oh," Sooyoung stretches her neck to take a look inside the familiar hallway. She catches a glimpse of a blonde lady in the living room— _who’s that?_ —and smells a whiff of baked goods wafting out from Jiwoo's kitchen. Classic Jiwoo. "You have a friend over? I'm sorry to disturb you guys," Sooyoung says, "But my arms are tired from carrying my luggage. Maybe you can let me drop this first? I also brought souvenirs."

To her surprise, Jiwoo grabs Sooyoung’s wrist with a little force and leads her to the far side of the lawn. _Jiwoo’s little fingers._ Sooyoung wants to hold them because she feels like it's been a very long time and she needs something real to hold on to. Jiwoo should feel how cold Sooyoung feels right now and offer to put Sooyoung’s hands inside her toasty little pocket. She looks very pretty under the dappled lights of her yard, and Sooyoung reaches her hand out to touch Jiwoo’s cheeks.

"Please not now, Sooyoung," Jiwoo blurted out suddenly. Sooyoung raises her eyebrows in confusion. "I can't. You can’t just come back like this and _bring souvenirs_ and say the words you think I want to hear and hope we can—that we—” she falters, out of words. Jiwoo's fingers comb through her pretty styled bangs in frustration.

Sooyoung waits patiently. Jiwoo sees right through her—and Jiwoo’s braver now, more than ever. Sooyoung only finds her more desirable like this. Maybe a smile is still enough to make Jiwoo weak at the knees? “But I miss you, Jiwoo. And I want to make us work,” Sooyoung says as her hand goes down to touch the tip of Jiwoo’s fingers instead. “Please stay with me.”

Jiwoo looks up to meet Sooyoung's line of sight, brows furrowed and eyes glassy once again; as if saying: _unbelievable._ “Don’t do this to me, Sooyoung. Don’t take me for an idiot. You used to be indifferent. You left. And I had nothing. And you are a horrible, horrible woman. And I do not want to see you again."

_Why? But I came here to see you. But I forego everything for you. If only you know what I've been through to stand here right now, you'd be—_

“But—”

“Jiwoo! The cake is done! Do you want me to put the candles on top of them?” the blonde lady suddenly popped out of Jiwoo’s front door. _And is that—Jungeun?_ Sooyoung blinked a few times to make sure that she's not mistaken. _Oh, no._ It is Kim Jungeun, in the flesh. Perhaps Jungeun didn’t recognize Sooyoung beneath the darkness of Jiwoo’s front lawn, but Sooyoung wouldn’t mistake that voice and that blonde hair for someone else. Sooyoung feels a seething, ugly resentment bubbling in her chest. _Why is Jungeun inside? Why is Jungeun breaching my haven? She has absolutely no right to—_

To Sooyoung’s surprise, Jiwoo turned her head to face Jungeun and answered Jungeun in a sweet voice, “Sure! Wait for me!”

Sooyoung recognizes that tone. The very same tone that Jiwoo used to answer Sooyoung with—the tone Jiwoo would use as she feeds Sooyoung strawberries, and the tone that Jiwoo would use as she offers her a sip of her overly sweet coffee. The lovesick tone. Sooyoung feels nauseous.

“Don’t take too long, babe. You’ll catch a cold.”

Jungeun closes the door behind her quietly. A painful realization stabs at the corner of Sooyoung’s heart and she grits her teeth. Surely the universe must be joking. Surely she did not come here for nothing. She tries to wrap her head around it. _Today is February 10th. It is Jungeun’s birthday, and_ _Jiwoo is_ — _oh_. 

Sooyoung brushes her hair back and laughs sarcastically.

“.... Jungeun? Really?”

Jiwoo wraps her hands around her elbows and looks away. “Jungeun was there for me. At least.”

“I can’t believe it. You said that you love me. You told me that you love me but you never want to see me again. Am I hearing this correctly?” Sooyoung asks. The question itself was quite rhetorical, actually, but she was desperate because she swears that she saw a tinge of an emotion that she can’t quite grasp in Jiwoo’s eyes. Perhaps it was a piece of hesitation—which is good. Hesitation is good. Hesitation can make Jiwoo question her choices. Hesitation can make her leave Jungeun. 

“Loved,” Jiwoo corrects bitterly. “Now leave, please.”

Jiwoo turns around and walks back to her porch. _It’s okay. Jiwoo will turn back when I call her name,_ Sooyoung thinks. _Turn back, Jiwoo,_ she yelled, _I am home and I—_

"I love you."

Sooyoung stands in her place, her skin tingling with anticipation after uttering her confession. She manages to stop Jiwoo in her tracks. But Jiwoo does not turn back—she slams the door on Sooyoung once again, and Sooyoung hears the faint clicking noise of a door lock.

Her heart twinges.

And there Sooyoung was, freezing in front of Jiwoo's porch on a cold winter night. Little pieces of snow start to gather on her shoulder and on the top of her trunk. She didn’t know how long she stood there, but it was long enough for her to witness two silhouettes dancing around in the kitchen and the fireplace in the living room. It was a domestic sight. It was too domestic and Sooyoung’s heart sank. That was supposed to be her. _No,_ Sooyoung thought, _no,_ this is still Jiwoo’s house—her haven—but that was not Jiwoo. A Jiwoo who does not love Sooyoung is not Jiwoo. 

A Jiwoo who replaced Sooyoung—

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> sorry if that hurt!! that's on commitment issues i guess. also pls don't forget to drink water.  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> to some degree i think that they deserve a get-together sequel ... mainly because i've been very (unprovokedly) mean to them by writing this.


End file.
